CARMEN
The words made my chest squeeze painfully. Not because they were patronizing, but because they were genuine and kind. I had not been praised in so long that I almost didn’t know how to receive it.
I drank a few careful sips of the soup and one small bite of bread, letting the butter melt into the soft center until it became almost sweet. The bread was warm too. Fresh enough that it must have been bought recently or maybe even baked nearby.
My stomach protested if I moved too quickly, so I paused often, resting between bites.
Ellen watched without comment.
When she spoke again, her tone was easy, meant to keep the room from folding back in on itself.
“So,” she said, settling into the chair, “you asked earlier about where we’re from.”
I looked up from the tray.
She smiled a li
